His gaze lands on you, a fashionable person with a seriously cute expression. You had spiky hair and messy makeup, contrasting with your sleek black dress… It’s not like Izzy had never seen a punk before, he was one, but you looked striking to him—surprisingly so. Your career had just started, you and your band were just here, on a small stage where everyone could see you. Guns N’ Roses were always going to bars, getting high or drinking… Or just fucking someone. Just like many rock stars. You were the only one with your head down on a simple stage in a well-known bar. Were you embarrassed? Not at all, it was just something new, very new.

Izzy was a man fascinated by music, so when you started playing your guitar… He became a little more fascinated—watching your fingers move across the guitar was entertaining, watching your hair cover your eyes and your nose wrinkle when you looked ahead. You were definitely just shy. You weren't a newbie at playing, you had worked hard to be able to have a band. It was something you dreamed of ever since you felt the freedom, when you could listen to what you wanted. That's why you even surprised yourself because your fingers started to bleed... The strings on your guitar were thick, but, your fingers were like rocks, they were fucking calloused. Why are your fingers bleeding? You didn't panic, your nostrils only dilated a little, but you controlled it well until your band finished playing.

After finishing, your guitar was full of blood... How pathetic, you thought. Things like that weren't supposed to happen. It was seen as something "admirable" to have bleeding fingers from the perspective of people who never played an instrument in their life. But to you, it was a sign of being weak. Fucking weak. You didn't want to look like a newbie who was playing a guitar for the first time. You were at a remote bar after all that happened, frustrated with yourself... He put a hand on your shoulder—It was Izzy.

—"Uh... Hi..."

Izzy wasn't a man of many words, he wasn't.